


Christmas Sweaters & Mistletoe Kisses

by SOMNlARl



Series: Tumblr Prompts [20]
Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Boys Kissing, Christmas AU, Christmas Fluff, Cultural differences (sort of), Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Inappropriate Christmas sweaters, M/M, Modern AU, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-17
Updated: 2015-10-17
Packaged: 2018-04-26 21:02:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5020411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SOMNlARl/pseuds/SOMNlARl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cullen asks Dorian to pick up ugly Christmas sweaters for his office party that night. He probably should have expected this result. </p><p>Alternately: Dorian likes giving his Fereldan boyfriend shit sometimes and Cullen can't deal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Christmas Sweaters & Mistletoe Kisses

**Author's Note:**

> From an anon prompt on tumblr: _for your fluffy prompt request: cullrian + holiday sweaters (I know it's only October but i accidentally got a run of christmas songs when I put my mp3 on shuffle the other day and now i'm feeling unseasonably festive)_
> 
> This was supposed to be a short little thing but it just grew and grew. 
> 
> Find me on tumblr, I'm [xhermionedanger](http://xhermionedanger.tumblr.com)

Having a boyfriend not well-versed in Ferelden customs was difficult in a lot of ways, Cullen had known that would be the case going into it. They’d argued over everything from the proper side of the street to drive and walk on, how much spice was too much when Mia came to visit, how to make coffee and interior decoration. But never in his wildest nightmares had he imagined the situation he found himself in right now.

Cullen blinked and stared down at the sweater dangling from between Dorian’s black-laquered fingertips in horror. It was ugly, yes, the greens and reds a few shades too vibrant, approaching fluorescent but then there were those reindeer who were clearly…  _no._  Surely not.

“Well?” Dorian asked impatiently, a bit breathlessly, almost like a kid waiting for permission to open his first Christmas present. He was grinning and Cullen forced himself to give a wan smile in return. 

He squinted down at the reindeer again, hoping in the quick moment he’d turned away the reindeer would have started doing something more… well… reindeer-like. Frolicking in the snow and  _not_  frolicking like  ** _that_.**

No luck.

Maybe if he just closed his eyes for a minute and took a few deep breaths everything would be back to normal. A normal he understood. A normal that did not include either him or Dorian wearing a sweater with reindeer _fucking_  emblazoned across the chest to his office’s Christmas party.

 _ **One**._   _Deep breath, Rutherford._

_**Two**. Everything’s going to be fine. You’re imagining things._

_**Three**._   _Just… breathe._

He opened his eyes. The reindeer were definitely still having more fun than he was. 

“Dorian… those reindeer.” He rubbed at his temples and scowled. “They’re not… actually doing what I think they’re doing, right?  _Please_  tell me they’re not doing what I think they’re doing?”

Dorian’s silence was telling and his scowl deepened.

“Dorian…” He hissed, fingers fisting through his hair so tightly his scalp burned. “ _Please._ I need you to tell me. _”_

“Well…” He felt the soft press of Dorian’s mouth against his own tightly pursed lips and he almost softened, almost opened up for him until he glanced back down at the sweater and blanched, visions of Lavellan’s face if he walked into The Herald’s Rest wearing that monstrosity tonight flickering in front of his eyes. 

“ _Dorian.”_

“Really Amatus, it just depends on what you think they’re doing,” Dorian replied brightly, too quickly. Cullen glared as Dorian’s eyes lit nervously from him to the sweater to the far wall and back down to the floor.

“Well look, they’re certainly not having a knitting circle, I can tell you that much. So you’re safe on that count!” Dorian chanced a look back at Cullen, fidgeting with the fabric between his fingertips.

“That’s not what I thought they were doing and  _you know it,”_  Cullen growled as he sat heavily on the floor, fingers raking through his hair. 

“Do you want to see the other one?” Dorian asked as he tossed the offending garment across the back of the couch and rummaged through the shopping bag sitting at his feet. 

“Ta da!” Dorian cried as he pulled a second sweater out and held it out in front of his face. 

Cullen rolled his eyes. “Yes, that’s  _so_  much better. A snowman massacre, charming. I especially like the one that’s spurting blood all over the Christmas tree.”

“Well you don’t have to sound so grateful that I went out and found these for us, Amatus,” Dorian huffed.

“You did hear me say that we had to wear these to my  _work_  Christmas party, right? Tell me you heard me say that.”

“Of course I did! You said we needed ugly Christmas sweaters for your work Christmas party. And I delivered, are these not absolutely hideous?”

Cullen would have admitted that Dorian had a point there - hideous was a _massive_ understatement - had he not been much too busy hyperventilating. 

“This is it,” he muttered between quick, shaky breaths. “I’m going to be fired. Lavellan is going to take one look at the both of us and that’ll be it. Good bye, thanks for a good couple of years but don’t let the door hit you on the way out. I’m going to get fired. And all over a stupid fucking sweater because my boyfriend can’t tell the difference between ugly and massively inappropriate. At least it’ll give Sera one last laugh at me. It’s a Tevinter thing. It  _has_  to be a Tevinter thing. Oh god… and  _why are you laughing this is not funny Dorian._ ”

Dorian’s soft chuckle grew until he was doubled over with laughter, pink-cheeked and gasping for breath, his eyes tearing up. He clung to Cullen's arm for support, burying his face in his shoulder. 

“Maker but your  _face_ , Cullen,” Dorian wheezed, stifling another fit of giggles. “So worth it.”

“I still entirely fail to see what is so amusing. And what’s worth it? Losing my job?” Cullen snapped. 

“You really thought I didn’t know any better. You actually did! ” Dorian grinned as he reached for a second shopping bag on the floor and tossed it straight at Cullen. “Here, idiot. The first ones are just for home.”

Cullen sighed in relief as he pulled out two incredibly ugly sweaters - one with Santa’s face and covered in tiny, tinkling bells and the other festooned with elves whose hats and shoes lit up when you pressed a button tucked into the cuff - turning to rest his face on Dorian’s chest. 

“I hate you so much, you know that right?” He whispered, grinning as he turned to look up at Dorian. “You’re absolutely going to be the death of me.”

“Mmmmm, probably,” Dorian hummed in agreement, leaning down to press a kiss into Cullen’s hair. “Oh, look! My favorite stupid Southern custom. Mistletoe!”

Cullen looked up to see Dorian holding a sprig above their heads, grinning hopefully down at him. 

“Forgive me, Amatus?”

“Never,” Cullen whispered with a soft smile, trailing his fingers through Dorian’s thick, dark waves before pulling him closer until their foreheads lightly touched, teasing at Dorian’s lips with his own. “Merry Christmas, my heart.”


End file.
